Page 86 of Long Live the King

“Thank me later.”

She blushes, giving me another small smile. I have to physically resist the urge to pull her into the next room and fuck her raw.

I drop another hard kiss against her lips and join Phoenix in the game room. Taking out my phone, I text Rhys to let him know where we are.

Me:Come play COD.

Rhys:Morning, fucker. Let me grab coffee, I’ll be right there.

Me:Bellamy’s friends crashed breakfast. You’ll run into them in the kitchen, fair warning.

Rhys:Is Thayer there?

Me:Yup

His only response is the purple smiling emoji.

I huff out a laugh, completely unsurprised. Any opportunity Rhys can get to tease or rile her up is one he’ll happily take. The only thing keeping him from fucking her is her boyfriend, but if Rhys has anything to do with it, he won't be a problem for much longer.

???

“Thank you for letting them stay.”

I turn around at the sound of Bellamy’s voice. It’s late afternoon and the boys and I spent the better part of the day jeering at each other while playing COD. That’s our version of sportsmanship.

Rhys went to practice and Phoenix disappeared off somewhere like he often does. Bellamy is standing in the doorway of the game room, looking at me. I’m on the couch, scrolling aimlessly on my phone.

“Remember how I said you’d thank me later?”

She rolls her eyes at me before stepping into the room. Coming to stand in front of me, she crosses her arms as she looks down at me.

“What do you want?”

I extend my leg out to her. “Give me a foot massage.”

“You’re joking.” She deadpans.

I toe off my shoes one after the other and extend my arms along the back of the couch. “Nope.”

“I’m not massaging your feet, Rogue.”

I give her a hard look. She doesn’t shrink back, doesn’t even react. “You don’t have a choice.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Never pretended to be anything else."

With a sigh, she gets down until she’s sitting cross legged on the floor between my legs. She pulls off my socks and silently begins to rub my right foot.

Her fingers dig into the muscles, kneading up and down along the ridges of my skin. Concentration marks her face as she focuses on one foot before moving to the other.

I groan low in my throat at the way she touches me and the sight of her between my legs.

“Kiss me.”

“No.” She doesn’t even look up as she speaks.

“Deal.”